


The Stilinski Pack

by TheRealDanniX



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Stiles, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale Helps Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is a Mess, Derek Hale is a Nice Thing, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, Good Alpha Laura Hale, Good Peter Hale, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, I hurt Stiles, Laura Hale Lives, Little bit of angst, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Gerard Argent, Mentioned Kate Argent, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, The Pack Ships It, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27397219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX
Summary: The Hales didn't go far after the fire and they took Peter with them. Ten years later they come back to Beacon Hills and find a new pack. The Stilinski pack lead by their human Alpha.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Peter Hale & Sheriff Stilinski
Comments: 137
Kudos: 1354
Collections: Good Reads





	1. Recovering

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Am I writing another multichapter fic while I have seven other WIPs in two different fandoms? Apparently! This actually has an end and has been completely outlined and written through at least three chapters at this point and I’m thinking it’ll be done in about seven chapters. Max. Updates should be once or twice a week.  
> Anyways! Some important background that isn’t in the fic: Canon did not happen! Other really crappy things happened that resulted in damaged young adults in this story. Crappy things, but no death. (Except not really. Not in the fic anyways). And no Kanima. Cause, well, you’ll understand.  
> Probably.  
> Also, what is time? How old are they? Like, I don’t actually know. Most of them are in college, but I’m not sure how that lines up with the earlier stuff, but I’m writing this for the fun of it and because it makes me happy so if y’all could just ignore that plot hole (and any others you find), that’d be great.  
> Most of the magic stuff in this fic is completely based on my poor recollections of magics and stuff I think is cool. It is not researched in the least so don’t treat it like it is. Just enjoy the story and let my magic system be.  
> Last thing.  
> Kind of important.  
> Nothing to do with the world the fic is in. Just please understand. I live in the u.s., where life is stress and limbo, and this is my coping mechanism. I love it when y’all leave comments and kudos. I really do. On this fic though, please try to be kind with your comments. If you see a typo, point it out. If you liked it, let me know. But if you have a problem with the story, please try to be kind.  
> To me and to everyone else.
> 
> And now, after much ado, let our story begin.

The ash was still coating the air. Derek can’t smell anything through it. Laura was clinging to his side as they huddled in the Sheriff’s station. Eventually, one of the deputies took Laura to the side. Derek knew a human wouldn’t have been able to hear them as they discussed what would happen to Derek now. The Deputy, a man around their father’s age with fierce blue eyes like Peter, explained that since Laura was an adult, Derek would probably stay with her. Derek was trying to listen when suddenly a stuffed grey wolf was being shoved into his hands. He looked up at the boy who had done it. The boy was about Cora’s age, three or four years younger than Derek. He had wide honey eyes and pale skin dotted with moles. Derek looked down at the stuffed wolf. It was worn and clearly well-loved. He could smell traces of hospital on it even though the ash. “You looked sad,” the boy said. “And my Mom always told me that we should help people who are sad. And when I’m sad, my wolf helps me so I thought he would help you. You can’t keep him, ‘cause I still get sad a lot and my mom gave him to me. But you can hold onto him for a while. Just till you start to feel better or you find your own wolf to help you feel less sad. I don’t know why you’re sad though, so I don’t know how long that’ll take. Since I’m still sad over losing my mom if you lost somebody too then it may take a while. Dad won’t tell me what happened though, so I’m just guessing that you lost somebody.” Derek nodded numbly, still gripping the wolf. The boy took the seat that Laura had been sitting in. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t do much, but it’s what everybody said when my mom died. So, I’m sorry.” The boy reached over and pet the stuffed wolf in Derek’s hands. “He’ll help you until you feel better. He’s called Wilk. My mom named him. It means wolf in Polish. My mom named me too, but you can just call me Stiles.” The boy, Stiles, pressed closer against Derek’s side, falling quiet. Derek could still feel the echo of the broken pack bonds, but the pain eased a bit as he sat with Stiles.

“Derek, come on,” Laura called quietly after a while. She tugged on his arm, making him drop the wolf. Stiles instantly scooped it up, watching as Laura dragged Derek out of the Sheriff’s station. Derek felt his wolf howl desperately as they left.

“I hope you feel better,” Stiles yelled after them. The deputy that had been talking to Laura instantly started scolding the boy, but Derek and Laura were gone too quickly to hear the response. Laura wanted to run, but Derek wouldn’t let her leave Peter. They fought for weeks about what to do, but finally, Derek convinced her. They got Peter set up in a facility an hour outside of Beacon Hills and used the insurance money to buy a house there. They found Cora and got custody of her. Laura insisted they change their last name in order to finish school. Ten years later, Peter had recovered and had resumed his duties as the pack’s left hand. The Argents had been killed or arrested for their acts against other packs. And the Hale family moved back to Beacon Hills. Laura transferred to the Beacon Hills’ district attorney’s office. Derek, who ran his own independent architecture firm while selling some of his handmade furniture, designed their house. Cora was all for it and helped whenever she got time off from school where she was studying criminal justice. Derek thought that things were finally starting to go back to normal after the fire. Of course, he was wrong. And it all started with a bookshop.

Derek, Laura, and Peter had all moved into the new house one week beforehand and Derek was finally taking a break from his current project when he found the shop. It was fairly new, built sometime after they left, called Golden Feather Books. From the outside, it looked like a standard bookstore, but inside it became clear there was more going on. Derek could feel the wards on the place as he walked inside. That took the backseat when he caught the smell that pervaded the shop. It was like vanilla and cinnamon and electricity. It made Derek’s wolf howl under his skin. “Let me know if you need help!” a man called from behind the counter. Derek looked at him, instantly knowing that he was the source of the smell. He was almost Derek’s height with glasses sliding down his nose. His face was littered with moles that disappeared under the collar of his two shirts. He had the sleeves rolled up and Derek could see a beautiful array of tattoos traveling up his arms that he wanted to lick. The man’s whiskey-colored eyes were fixed on the leather-bound book in front of him. There was a buzz around the man like he was brimming with energy as he read. Derek stared for a moment, thinking this was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, before quickly fleeing the shop. (It would not be inaccurate to suggest that he left with his tail between his legs.)

Across town, Laura Hale braced herself as she entered the Beacon Hills Sheriff station for the first time since the night of the fire. She breezed past the welcome desk heading straight for the Sheriff’s office. Sheriff Jordan Parish greeted her. “Welcome back to Beacon Hills, DA Hale,” he said smiling.

“Call me Laura,” she replied. “I just wanted to introduce myself since we’ll be working closely with the Sheriff’s department.” Laura forced herself to smile and pushed the memories from her mind. She could still smell the ash. 

“Well, I look forward to it. We don’t get many big cases these days, but the small stuff more than keeps us busy,” Parish chuckled. “From what I’ve heard about you that’s a little below your paygrade. What made you want to come back?”

“This is where my family has lived for generations. I couldn’t let that memory fade completely.” Laura straightened and resisted the urge to flash her eyes. Talking about her family always made her territorial. A clack of heels outside the door alerted Laura before it burst open and a red-haired woman in four-inch stilettos walked in. Her green eyes were fixed on Parish who looked cornered.

“Jordan,” the woman hissed. 

“Lydia,” Parish said in warning before the woman could go on. “Let me introduce you to Laura Hale, the new District Attorney.” He gestured to Laura. Laura smiled at the woman who smelled like death and cherries.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Laura said, extending her hand. Lydia’s eyes flicked from the offered hand to Parish and to Laura’s eyes. Then she closed the door.

“Alpha Hale, I am Lydia Martin, Emissary of the Stilinski Pack. I believe we have some business to discuss before you make your move back to Beacon Hills territory permanent,” Lydia said, sickly sweet. She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow as Parish let out a groan.

“Is no one in this town human?” he muttered. Laura’s eyes flared red as they fixed on the Sheriff.

“I was unaware of any pack in the area,” Laura growled. 

Lydia smirked. “Then you must not have looked too hard. This has been Stilinski territory for the past four years. We have allies with the Ito Pack and the West Beacon County Coven, who both were aware of you and your pack, having been allies with the previous Hale Alpha. They were both also aware of the circumstances that lead to the formation of the Stilinski Pack. But setting that aside, you are currently in Stilinski territory without having reached out to our Alpha. If you’d like, I can set up a meeting between our pack and yours to come to an agreement that would allow you to stay on our territory. Alpha Stilinski is available most days. Find a time that would work best for your pack and give me a call.” Lydia produced a business card seemingly from thin air. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business with the Sheriff.” Her eyes turned icy as she glared at Parish. 

“Whatever you think I did, it was Stiles,” Parish sighed.

“It was definitely not Stiles who left burned coffee on the stove,” Lydia hissed. “It was not Stiles who spilled said coffee on the three-hundred-year-old tome on the counter.” Lydia continued getting more and more specific while Laura quickly slipped out of the room. What pack would dare take over Hale territory? She missed the way her wolf seemed to want to stay at the station or how she continued to smell ash and death and cherries long after she left. Her phone rang as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Derek, we have a problem,” Laura said, answering her brother and not giving him the chance to speak. “Get Peter and Cora to the house. There’s another pack in our territory.” She hung up the phone and tossed it to the seat. 


	2. Golden Feather Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Limbo is over, the battle is won. Have a chapter on me.   
> We can ignore the rest of the insanity of the last few days and just have some fic.  
> Thanks for the feedback so far, hope I don't disappoint.
> 
> Drop me some comments or kudos and let me know what you think ;)

After Lydia finished tearing into Jordan, she left the Sheriff’s station and headed straight for Stiles’ shop. She noticed the black Camaro speeding away from the shop as she pulled up but ignored it. Stiles was exactly where he always was, leaning over an old book behind the counter of Golden Feather Books. The bird the shop was named after flew out of the room behind the counter and perched on her shoulder as she approached clearly looking for a snack. Stiles sighed and looked up at her over his glasses. “What happened now?” he asked.

“The Hale Pack is back. I just ran into their Alpha at the Sheriff’s station,” Lydia said. Stiles removed his glasses and Golden Feather hopped from Lydia’s shoulder to the counter. 

“I guess that explains the new wolf that came in earlier.” Stiles absently pulled out some seeds and offered them to his familiar. The crow happily accepted them before disappearing into the back room. “He must be a Hale. They’re all born wolves and he felt more like Malia than Boyd.” 

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Nope. He came in. Stared at me for a moment, scented the shop in a ridiculously obvious manner, and stormed out. Either he wasn’t expecting to encounter a magic-user or he’s even worse than Scott at being discreet. Maybe both ‘cause I swear I heard him growl as he left. I was willing to ignore it, but Goldie wouldn’t shut up about him.” Stiles glared over his shoulder at the room the bird had disappeared into. 

“Maybe because his pack still has a claim to Beacon Hills. As long as there’s a Hale Alpha, the land and the Nemeton will default to them as the rightful pack.”

“I know. I was there for the lectures with Deaton too. What’s the plan?” 

The Banshee considered a moment. “We make a deal. Most of our pack is at college right now. It’s really only you, me, Jordan, and Boyd in town on a regular basis which is crap for maintaining territory. We let the Hales stay in exchange for help policing the territory.”

“Most of our pack will be back permanently in two years,” Stiles pointed out.

“Exactly. It’s a fair trade. We let them have the part of the Preserve that was Hale land before, including the Nemeton, and they help defend the whole of Beacon Hills for two years. According to Alpha Ito, their pack is small. Just their family. It won’t hurt to let them stay after our pack is back.”

“Labor for land. Think they’ll agree to it?” Goldie let out a caw from the back. Stiles grinned. “All right then. Draw up the agreement. Make it clear that the town is still our territory after the two years. Then we’re just allies in close proximity. Hopefully. I’ll see if Goldie can get a better look at their pack so we know what we’re getting into.” There was a ruffle of feathers as Goldie returned to the counter to glare at Stiles. “You’ll do it if you want chicken tonight.” The bird seemed to consider this before flying off. Lydia assumed it went through an open window somewhere to follow the Hale pack.

“What’s the plan for the meeting?” she asked, bringing Stiles’ focus back to the problem at hand.

“You, me, and whoever's in town. Make it as formal as possible so using my given name or Alpha Stilinski. Or both. Emissary Stilinski for you. If Kira’s in town she’s beta kitsune, but everyone else should be the standard intro. Presumably, the Hales will follow suit.”

“What if they have a problem with a human Alpha?” Lydia arched her an eyebrow.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Then screw them. They’ll deal or they’ll get out. Simple as that.” His eyes flashed red for a moment. Lydia nodded. 

“On a different note, Jordan spilled burnt coffee all over that book you lent me on Banshee bloodlines.” She pulled the ruined book out of her bag and placed it on the table. “Fix it so that I can read it.” Stiles let out a laugh as his eyes flashed red and he ran his fingers down the spine, drawing out the coffee and restoring the book.

“You’ve been dating him for months, Lydia. I would think you’d know better than to leave books anywhere he can find them. I’m still not over him burning the guide on familiars to ash,” Stiles scolded. 

“He was distracted.” She grinned suggestively.

Stiles grimaced. “I did not need that image, Lydia. I thought we agreed no more scaring.”

“Then don’t picture it,” she said primly. She flicked her hair and took her book back to her car.

Peter was the last one to arrive back at the house. Derek and Laura both scowled at him while Cora just rolled her eyes. “Where have you been?” Laura snapped. “Derek called you over an hour ago.”

“I was reconnecting with an old friend. Satomi and I had tea today and she had some information that was relevant to our pack. I assumed you would understand my choice to learn as much as I could before returning,” Peter sighed, taking a seat beside Cora. 

“We have more pressing matters than whatever creature Alpha Ito has spotted recently,” Laura groaned. “There’s another pack claiming Hale territory.”

“That is exactly what Satomi and I were discussing,” Peter snapped. “How did you come by this discovery?”

“I met their emissary at the Sheriff’s station today. She wants to set up a meeting to arrange our being allowed to stay here.”

“They want us to negotiate to stay in our own territory?” Derek growled.  
“Calm yourself, Nephew,” Peter said. “Their request is perfectly reasonable as this is not Hale territory anymore. Alpha Ito was explaining that the Stilinski pack has been in Beacon Hills for the last four years. If we wanted to claim the land as our own without challenge, we would have had to do it three years ago. They’ve been here long enough that they have every right to the land.”

“As frustrating as it is, Peter’s right,” Laura sighed. 

“How did they even get here? We would have heard about a new pack in the area,” Cora complained.

“Apparently, there was a rogue Alpha in the area four and a half years ago who bit three local high school students. The Alpha was taken care of by some hunters. The last of the Argents, if Satomi is not mistaken. After that, there was no alpha for the new wolves. They didn’t know any of the local packs to seek protection and we were no longer a viable option. What happened instead was quite rare. One of the other teens, a friend of those who were bitten, was a born Spark. He now serves as the pack’s alpha. Satomi said she was very impressed by him. Apparently, he runs a bookshop and provides assistance to local peaceful supernaturals through it,” Peter explained. “Their pack is quite diverse too, from the sound of things. There are several bitten wolves, a true Alpha serving as the second, a Banshee as their emissary, a kitsune, and a hellhound. It is quite impressive.”

“She’s a banshee?” Laura muttered, slumping in her chair a little. 

“They have a hellhound and a kitsune?” Cora yelped.

“Is the bookstore called Golden Feather Books?” Derek asked, eyes flashing blue. Peter nodded. Derek let out a groan and let his head fall to the table with a loud smack. Peter raised his eyebrows. 

“How? How do you know that?” Cora demanded. 

Derek looked up carefully. “I went in the store earlier.”

“You went to Alpha’s bookstore?” Laura asked. 

“I didn’t know what it was!” Derek snarled. “I thought it was just a bookstore. Then I felt the wards.”

Peter tilted his head, considering his nephew. “What happened? Did you speak to him?” Derek shook his head. “So you just wandered around his store?” Derek shook his head again. “Derek, please tell me you didn’t just walk in the store, stand there for a moment then leave again.” Derek nodded. “Why?”

“I- he- he smelled,” Derek groaned, head returning to the table. Laura and Cora frowned at their brother, but Peter let out a startled laugh.

“He smelled,” Peter mumbled. “Of all the ways to phrase it, that has to be one of the worst.”

Laura glared at Peter. “What are you talking about?”

“Your mother actually crashed her car the first time she caught your father’s scent, so I suppose we should be happy that all Derek did was run away.” Peter grinned.

Understanding crossed Laura’s face. She fixed a red-eyed stare on her brother. “Derek, are you telling us that Alpha Stilinski is your mate?” she breathed. Derek just let out a groan, not removing his head from the table. Cora burst out laughing, but Laura joined her brother in groaning. “Okay. So, here’s what we’re going to do. I am going to set up a meeting with their emissary for Friday night. Make sure you can all be there. We will be open to any peaceful arrangement they suggest, and we will not mention anything about mates. We will deal with that later. Right now, we need to make sure we have at least a partial claim to the land.”

“I don’t see why we don’t just let Derek try to win over Alpha Stilinski. Then join our packs. We may even be able to convince them to assume the Hale name for the pack,” Peter offered amusedly. Cora’s laughter grew louder.

Laura smirked. “If we were relying on Der-bear’s ability to flirt, we’d be doomed.” Derek flipped them off but didn’t deny it. The crow outside the window let out a pleased caw, reporting only the size of the Hale pack to her Spark.


	3. A Bird Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I bring you more story with a side of fluff and just a dash of angst. Little bit longer than the other chapters, but I thought it was the best way to break it up. Side note, for those of you who were wondering, Yes there are restrictions on what Parrish can touch. In fact, he’s the only member of either pack that is not allowed in Golden Feather Books. Heads up, we talk about deaths at the end of this chapter. 
> 
> Fun fact! Did you know that Crows can imitate sounds like Parrots can? I did and I have used that. I may have stretched it a bit, but Goldie’s a magic crow so I think I’m fine with the accuracy there ;)
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments and drop some kudos if you’re enjoying it :)

Friday night found Stiles standing in the Preserve with Golden Feather perched on his shoulder. Despite the heat, he was in his favorite red hoodie. Lydia had forced him into a button-up but he’d won the argument over his jeans and tennis shoes. She wanted him to put on a strong front, but Stiles thought that being able to react if threatened was better than the confining formal clothes that Lydia would pick. He did compromise and leave his bat in his jeep. Scott, Allison, Malia, Parrish, and Boyd were all able to make it to town for the meeting with the Hale Pack. Allison had tried to stay home, understandably, but Scott had forced her to the meeting. It wasn’t dark yet when the Hale Pack showed up, so even the human and mostly human members of Stiles’ pack had a clear view of them. As expected, leading them was Alpha Laura Hale. Her black hair was pulled back in a short braid with a few loose strands that fluttered in the wind. To her right was her brother Derek, the wolf Stiles had seen in his shop. Despite the grumpy scowl that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, Derek was incredibly attractive. Even under his leather jacket, you could see the outlines of his muscles. Stiles wanted to know what the wolf’s scruffy beard felt like on his skin. He quickly set those thoughts aside before one of the wolves could scent his attraction and moved on to the other young Hale, Cora. She had an intense look in her eyes as she scanned Stiles’ pack. Her eyes were dark, and her long hair hung in her stoic face. The last member of the Hale Pack was Peter, Laura’s left hand. He was the oldest Hale and immediately struck Stiles as creepy, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. All of this musing ended when Golden Feather flew from Stiles’ shoulder to Derek’s. Both packs froze. Stiles’ pack, who knew how picky the crow was about who she perched on, hesitated. Lydia glanced at Stiles out of the corner of her eye. Derek stared at Goldie, who took his moment of shock to pick at the wolf’s hair affectionately before she returned to Stiles. Something smelled like smoke, and Stiles resisted the urge to see what Parrish had set on fire this time. Lydia chose to ignore the entire event.

“Good evening Alpha Hale,” Lydia began. “For the members of your pack who are unfamiliar, you may call Emissary Stilinski. This is Alpha Mieczyslaw Stilinski, our head Alpha. Alpha Scott McCall is his second. Also present are Betas Parrish, Tate, Boyd, and Argent. Not present are Betas Reyes, Lahey, and Dunbar, and Beta Kitsune Yukimura.” She gestured to each person in turn. The Hale pack let out a growl, aimed at Allison. “Beta Argent is Alpha McCall’s mate. She has never associated with the main Argent Hunting Clan and should not be held accountable for the crimes they have committed. Though we do understand your hesitance.” Lydia inclined her head slightly. Laura’s eyes flashed red, but she nodded acceptingly.

“Thank you, Emissary Stilinski. I am Alpha Laura Hale. Beta Derek Hale is my second. My other Betas are Peter and Cora Hale. None of our pack is absent. We have come to this meeting with the request that some of the former Hale territory be returned to us. I recognize that we have a smaller claim to the land than we would have had we returned sooner, and I am willing to negotiate with your pack on the terms of our return.” Laura stood tall, looking for all parts like the Alpha she was. Stiles couldn’t do that, but he figured his name was intimidating enough. 

“In anticipation of your request, I have discussed it with my Alpha and my pack and laid out a formal treaty, which we are willing to let you read and consider before you sign. However, the gist of the agreement is an exchange. You and your betas agree to help protect the whole of Beacon Hills for the next two years while most of our pack will often be absent seeking their education. In exchange, you will be allowed to reclaim the territory that is in the Hale name in the Preserve and, in a limited sense, around wherever you are living. This land would include the Nemeton. After the two years are over, you and your pack will retain the lands. At that point, we can arrange another meeting to discuss becoming allies, should you want to,” Lydia explained. She pulled the treaty from her bag and extended it to Laura. Peter stepped past his Alpha and retrieved the papers.

“You can take up to two weeks to decide,” Stiles said. “If you have questions, you can call Emissary Stilinski or stop by my shop. Your brother knows where it is.” Stiles grinned and resisted the urge to wink at Derek. Laura nodded to him in thanks. Derek, who had been staring at Goldie for most of this exchange, looked at Stiles in alarm. Stiles couldn’t see for sure in the dimming light, but he thought the wolf’s ears looked a little pink. 

“We’ll look over the treaty and get back to you. Though I think we will likely find it agreeable,” Laura said, glancing back at her pack. “If we were to agree, would my betas have to submit to you?”

“They would be expected to listen to Alpha Stilinski and Alpha McCall,” Lydia replied. “We wouldn’t force them to formally submit or take our Alphas’ orders over yours. We have no intention of interfering with your pack’s structure. Your betas are your business.”

“My sister is also seeking higher education. Will that impact your treaty?”

“Not at all, Alpha Hale.” Lydia smiled. 

Laura nodded. “I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve decided. Thank you for your offer.” Laura turned and led her pack away. Golden Feather flew to Derek again as the pack left, picking at his hair before returning to Stiles. Stiles waited a few minutes until Boyd signaled that the Hale Pack was out of hearing range before he glared at his familiar.

“What was that?” Stiles demanded. Goldie let out a quiet, amused sounding caw. Stiles swore she was taunting him.

“What’s with your bird, Stiles?” Malia asked. 

“Dude, I thought you said she was picky about who she perched on,” Scott whined. “I’ve known her for years and she still pecks me hard enough to draw blood when I try to pet her.” The puppy dog pout on his best friend's face was ridiculous. Scott was always upset when animals didn’t like him, since most did. He was like a fricking Disney princess most of the time. Just not with Goldie.

“Familiars are picky about who they let touch them based on the feel of the person’s soul. That’s how they find the magic-user they want to pair with,” Lydia said. “Most familiars won’t let anyone but their person touch them. Golden Feather has always been more lax than most familiars. She likes to be touched as much as Stiles does.” Stiles glared at her.

“Yeah, but that’s normally limited to you, me, and Kira,” Stiles said. “She’s never sought out anybody else. Especially not a stranger.”

“Maybe Derek’s different,” Boyd volunteered. 

“Or maybe she knows you like him,” Malia said. God, Stiles loved Malia like a sister, but she was still so blunt sometimes. The eyes of the whole pack fixed on Stiles as he let out a groan and thumped his head against a tree. Goldie hopped onto the top of his head and started grooming him like she usually did when she thought he was stressed. 

“That may not be the worst thing in the world. It’s better than falling for the person trying to kill us,” Lydia said. “This time, at least, he’s an ally.”

“You date the villain one time,” Stiles muttered. He straightened up, giving Goldie enough time to adjust to his movements. “I can feel all of you agreeing. I can feel Liam agreeing with you and he’s not even here. For the record, I was spelled! And I broke it before she could kill any of us!” Stiles flailed around to emphasize his point. Goldie didn’t like all the movement and decided to fly off for a while. In the direction the Hale pack had gone. Which did absolutely nothing to stop his pack from smirking at him.

“Take the bird’s advice,” Malia said. “We can all smell that you liked him.”

“That’s it. This conversation is over.” Stiles stormed off towards his jeep.

Derek was thoroughly confused by the crow. When it had first landed on him, it had shocked him since most animals had a natural aversion to werewolves. The shock had been doubled since it had obviously been perched on Alpha Stilinski. The looks on the rest of the Stilinski pack had affirmed that this was not usual bird behavior. Though the bird had stayed on the Alpha’s shoulder for most of the meeting, only moving when the meeting was over to once again perch on Derek. By that point, Derek knew it wasn’t a normal bird. He just had no idea what it was or why it seemed to like him. When they’d noticed it following, Laura had tried to get close to it, only for the crow to peck her hard and fly off. It came back and perched in Derek’s hair a few minutes later. Like it was taunting Laura. It stayed there the rest of the way to their house. Peter eyed the bird suspiciously. “How very odd,” he said. Derek glared at him. The crow hopped down to Derek’s shoulder and picked at his hair again before flying off. “She seemed to like you.”

“How do you know the bird’s a ‘she’?” Cora asked. “They didn’t exactly introduce it.”

“Satomi mentioned that Alpha Stilinski had a familiar and referred to them with feminine pronouns. For future reference, if you know the pronouns for a familiar, always use them. If you don’t, refer to them without pronouns. They take offense at things like that and the wrath of a familiar can be both daunting and strange,” Peter explained. 

“The bird was Alpha Stilinski’s familiar?” Laura asked.

“I’d imagine so. I don’t know of any normal bird that would be so well behaved.” Peter nodded.

“I thought familiars only let their person touch them,” Derek frowned.

“Normally. She seemed to be more open to touch in general than most familiars. And, as I said, she seemed to like you.” Peter grinned. 

“She definitely didn’t like me,” Laura huffed. Then she straightened. “Look over their treaty and get back to me when you’re done. All of you. We’ll only agree to it if you’re all alright with it.” They all nodded. “Anything else?”

“Is their whole pack so young?” Cora asked. “I mean, it seemed like that Parrish guy was the oldest and he can’t be older than Laura.”

“Show a little respect. He’s the Sheriff, Cora,” Laura sighed. 

“My point still stands.” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, I believe that Sheriff Parrish is the oldest,” Peter said. “The rest are all significantly younger. Most are your age, with a year or two in either direction.”

“What do you expect? They formed their pack in high school,” Derek snorted.

“You said it was four years ago, right?” Laura looked at Peter, who nodded in confirmation. “Wasn’t that the year the old Sheriff died?” Peter hesitated a moment before his eyes got wide.

“I thought I recognized the name,” he breathed. All three of them frowned at him. Peter’s mind was the only thing that had healed much four years ago. He had been able to talk and read some, so they had gotten the facility to keep the local news on for Peter. Even after he’d recovered further, he still spent a good portion of his time with the local news on. As such, Peter was incredibly familiar with all the local scandals and major events of the past ten years. “We went to school together. He was a deputy before the fire and became Sheriff two years later. He was working on the Argent cases and they killed him by planting a bomb in his cruiser. Parrish, his leading deputy at the time, was appointed to replace him, and was elected to the position later, despite his age.” Peter had a distant look on his face that normally meant he was remembering the fire. 

“Who are you talking about Uncle Peter?” Derek asked carefully.

“Noah. Sheriff Stilinski.” Peter disappeared into the house without another word and the Hale siblings let him go. Suddenly, the crow was back and forcing her way through the door. Derek followed her, alarmed, with his sisters on his heels. They found her on Peter’s shoulder, pressing her beak gently against his cheek in an almost comforting manner. Peter looked startled, but his eyes were clearer as he tentatively reached up and pet the bird. “Tell him I was Noah’s friend,” Peter whispered. The crow made a rumbling sound that was almost like a purr. She picked at Peter’s hair before flying off again, apparently with a mission.

Golden Feather was not at Stiles’ apartment when he got back. Stiles was not surprised by this, since she often spent the night flying around in the Preserve, keeping an eye on things. Tonight, however, Stiles had a suspicion he knew where she was spending the night. He frowned, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. It’s not like they could steal his familiar. Not even the Argents could do that, no matter how hard they’d tried. It was confusing just how much Goldie seemed to like Derek and his pack. The last time a pack had been in the area, Goldie had mimicked Lydia’s scream at them when they showed up. Stiles put it out of his mind and focused on building the charms that some supernaturals had ordered. Goldie returned an hour later, landing on his hands to stop his work. She only did that when she was distressed. Stiles frowned at her. “What happened, Goldie?” he asked. Goldie hopped up his arm until she could place her beak against his head. The second she did, he saw Peter Hale from where Golden Feather had perched on his shoulder. The eldest Hale looked Goldie in the eyes and spoke. 

“Tell him I was Noah’s friend.” Peter’s voice was quiet and there were tears in his ice-blue eyes. Goldie stepped back and let her eyes glow gold for a second. Then she flew to her usual perch, overlooking the whole apartment from the top of Stiles’ tallest bookshelf. Stiles blinked the tears out of his own eyes at his father’s name. He pushed himself away from his workspace, no longer in the right headspace to make charms.

“Warn a guy,” he muttered, going for his bedroom. Goldie cawed at him, but he ignored her as he fell onto his bed. A few moments later, she dropped something on the bed beside him and settled on his pillow. Stiles gathered the stuffed wolf into his arms. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, Goldie. I promise.”


	4. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Background? Learning about the Stilinski pack? Well, Peter is anyway.   
> Little bit of angst. Kate and Gerard are both mentioned. We learn how Stiles's dad died.   
> Little bit of mentioned violence. Nothing detailed.
> 
> Next chapter will begin the real action of this slow-ish burn. Fair warning: I hurt the characters I love. 
> 
> Let me know what you think so far in the comments! I love hearing from y'all <3

Peter ignored his Alpha’s warnings as he walked briskly towards Golden Feather Books. Laura had been insistent that talking to Alpha Stilinski before their treaty was finalized was a bad idea. She had told him not to discuss their pack. To not seek out the other Alpha. However, she had not given him an order. Therefore, Peter found himself slipping into the innocuous-looking shop, wards buzzing as he strode forward. Alpha Stilinski was standing behind the sales counter with his familiar on his shoulder. He stared at the book in front of him, looking far more relaxed than he had at their meeting in the woods. This was where the young Alpha excelled if Satomi was to be believed. He pushed a pair of glasses back up his nose. Then the crow tapped his ear with her beak. The Alpha looked up, honey-colored eyes finding Peter. “Can I help you, Beta Hale?” he asked calmly.

“There’s no need to be formal. Call me Peter.” Peter nodded to Alpha Stilinski. Then to the bird on his shoulder. The crow bobbed her head but made no move to get close to Peter.

“What can I do for you, Peter?” he amended.

“I was wondering if we could talk about your father. I was comatose when he was killed, and the details of his death are not public information.” The Alpha straightened. “As I’m sure your familiar told you, Noah was a friend of mine. We went to school together and worked closely before the fire. I even helped watch you when your mother was sick, Mischief,” Peter said gently. The nickname seemed to shock the young Alpha. His eyes flared red. Peter was surprised by the color for a moment, not having expected a human alpha to carry the same traits as a wolf. 

“Nobody’s called me that for a long time.”

“I assumed as much,” Peter admitted. He sighed. The crow snatched Mischief’s glasses and flew into the back room. Mischief didn’t react to the bird. Instead, he stepped around the counter.

“Why don’t we get something to eat? Then you can ask me what you want to about his murder.” Mischief led him out of the shop and across the street to the local diner. Once they’ve ordered their food, he turned to Peter. “What do you want to know?”

“What is your familiar’s name?” Peter asked.

Mischief smirked. “She’s called Golden Feather, but when she likes someone, they can call her Goldie.”

“So, my nephew may call her Goldie.”

“Your nephew can apparently pet her,” he snorted. “Though that’s not what we’re meant to be talking about.”

“No, it’s not,” Peter sighed. “How did Noah end up on the Argent case?”

“Me,” Mischief admitted. “Well, mostly. I guess I have to start at the very beginning to cover that. See, the day before our Sophomore year, Scott and I were out in the Preserve. They’d found half a body in the woods and we were looking for the other half. Which, not our finest moment, but also not the dumbest thing teenagers have ever done. Scott used to have asthma, so I was sort of leaving him in the dust. I got caught by my dad and his deputies, but Scott didn’t. He was walking back when a rogue alpha bit him. He turned three days later on the full moon. The Alpha bit two other people that night. Lydia Martin, my emissary, and Isaac Lahey, one of my betas. Lydia was hospitalized while her body was fighting off the bite. Being a Banshee, it was never going to take, but it didn’t kill her. Isaac found us at lacrosse practice the next day. So, Isaac, Scott, and I started hunting down the Alpha. And that’s when the Argents arrived.” Mischief stopped talking when the waitress brought their food.

“Which Argents?” Peter asked once the waitress was gone.

“Allison and her parents. She was seventeen and hadn’t been indoctrinated yet. She didn’t even know werewolves existed yet. Obviously, the second she showed up, Scott was gone on her. We didn’t really understand that until later when we started getting resources and allies. Anyways, Isaac and I were in the woods when we met her dad.”

“Met?” Peter arched an eyebrow.

“He shot me with an arrow.” Mischief shoved up his sleeve to show the scar, which was nearly covered by his array of tattoos. “Needless to say, we didn’t really get along. If it wasn’t for Isaac, we wouldn’t have gotten out of there. Scott patched me up, but wounds like that are hard to hide. My dad found out the next day. He wouldn’t believe any lie I told him, so I called Scott and we told him the truth. That’s when I found out my mom had been a Spark. Dad knew about werewolves and hunters but swore he’d never knowingly met any. He knew the Argent name though. He used my injury to arrest Allison’s dad. Turns out, he was one of the least worrying Argents, because he’d managed to kill the Alpha that bit Scott the day before he was arrested. His arrest brought his family down on Beacon Hills. Dad had been following the Argent money trail and had Gerard and Kate Argent dead to rights. All he needed was the warrant. Kate’s the one who planted the bomb.” Mischief stopped talking. His whole body was tense.

“She was killed by the police who arrested her, wasn’t she?” Peter probed.

“Both of them were. After they were dead, a local Druid approached me and started teaching me how to use my Spark. He died when an Alpha pack showed up the next year, but through working with him and my own research, I learned how to make myself a human Alpha for Isaac and Scott. Lydia helped after she recovered. Allison followed her and Scott.”

“An Alpha pack?” Peter raised his eyebrows. Mischief nodded absently.

“That’s how we got Boyd and Erica. They had been taken as some twisted kind of pets. Also, around that time Scott became a True Alpha, which worked out good for later when we had a dark mage come through trying to control the Nemeton who decided it would be easiest to spell me and take my pack out afterward.”

“Why did you not let Alpha McCall take over fully?” Peter asked.

“He didn’t want it. Our pack didn’t want it. They all said they already had an Alpha.” Mischief shrugged.

“How did you learn about the Hale Pack?”

“Dad’s research. He figured out that the Argents had a penchant for murder by housefire. He didn’t have enough evidence to charge them with the Hale fire, but it was more than enough to convince us they’d started it. We knew they only went after Packs and Covens. Rarely, they’d go after a Kiss or two. The druid I worked with had mentioned an old pack in the area. We put two and two together.” Mischief smirked. Then his phone went off and the young Alpha sighed. “I wanted to talk more about my dad, but I’ve got a meeting with a wood nymph. If you ever feel like sharing, my shop is always open.” He laid two twenties on the table and left Peter sitting there, staring after him.


	5. Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Again!  
> As the title suggests, we have some trouble. Nothing too graphic, but we're getting into the meat of the story. It turns out that this will probably be eight chapters instead of seven, but I'll change that when we get to it. 
> 
> I've been loving the feedback so far, and I cannot express how incredible it makes me feel to see y'all liking this. Please continue to leave comments to let me know how I'm doing <3

They signed the treaty within a week. After that, Derek found himself spending a lot of his free time patrolling the Beacon Hills Territory with Peter or Cora if she was home. Sometimes, he’d run into a Stilinski Beta in town. More often than not, it was Vernon Boyd, who refused to respond to anything but Boyd and talked less than Derek did. Derek liked him but didn’t know him. Derek also found himself being used as the go-between for the two packs. Laura sent him whenever she had a question for the other Alpha or his pack. He was also the only one home when the Spark warded the Hale’s house. The most constant contact from the Stilinski Pack was through Golden Feather. She seemed to divide her time evenly between the Alpha’s bookstore and the Hale House, keeping an eye on Derek. It was comforting in a strange way.

It was a month after they signed the treaty with the Stilinski Pack that trouble came. Something was hunting in the Preserve. No one had been killed yet, but the dead animals were piling up and it had attacked a jogger. Alpha Stilinski, who insisted Derek call him Stiles, reached out to Laura and Laura sent Derek to try and track it with Boyd. He and Boyd moved silently through the dark forest, keeping their senses alert for anything out of the ordinary. Derek hated to admit it, but he was relying on Boyd to notice anything subtle. Even with the recent patrols, he wasn’t as familiar with the Preserve as the younger beta. They’d been out there for hours before they finally found something. Boyd tensed and stopped moving, eyes glowing gold. Derek knew they were near the remains of his old house. He could smell the faded ash in the air. It took him a second to realize that there was a newer scent of flames over the ash and he let out a quiet growl. He didn’t have to say anything to Boyd as they both moved towards the old Hale house. There was a pile of rubble near the back of the yard that was smoking. Perched on the rubble, enjoying the heat from the smoke was a winged grey beast. It stretched to its full height when it saw the two werewolves. It looked like it was made of stone and was vaguely humanoid. It roared at them, showing off its fangs. Then it fell back to all fours, moving like a lion as it prowled around its pile of rubble. Derek went to get a closer look, but Boyd grabbed his wrist. “We call Lydia,” Boyd said quietly. “We don’t pick fights with things we don’t recognize.” 

“It’s a gargoyle,” Derek growled. The gargoyle let out another roar, not liking them so close to its nest. Before either wolf could say more, it lunged at them. Derek rolled out of the way, but Boyd wasn’t fast enough. Derek launched himself at the grappling pair. He managed to pry it off Boyd before the younger beta was hurt and fling it back to its nest. It hissed at him, lowering its head to show off a pair of nasty looking horns a second before it charged at him. Derek dived out of the way but felt one of the horns catch him in the side. 

“Run!” Boyd yelled from somewhere in the woods. Derek let out another growl. The gargoyle was between him and his escape. It turned around and roared at him, ignoring Boyd’s voice. Derek was injured and a slower target. He watched as the gargoyle lowered its head again, charging, but he didn’t move. “Derek!” He waited until it was right in front of him then vaulted over it. The wound on his side throbbed as he took off running into the woods. He didn’t stop moving until he was sure the gargoyle wasn’t following him. Then he let himself lean against a tree to examine his injury. It wasn’t healing. Boyd found him on the ground, still bleeding. “Come on. I called Lydia. We’re meeting her at the shop.” Boyd dragged Derek upright, hooking his arm under the taller man’s shoulders. Derek winced as his vision went a little grey from pain.

“Poison on the horns,” he managed in a low snarl. Boyd didn’t respond, just kept dragging Derek along. Not much later there was a frantic caw that echoed through the woods. Golden Feather appeared from the darkness, perching on Derek. She hopped across his shoulders like she was examining him before she pressed her beak gently against Derek’s temple. She made the same rumbling purr sound she had for Peter. Then she turned to Boyd.

“Hurry,” she cawed, sounding an awful lot like her Spark. 

Boyd let out a huff. “Blame the dead weight,” Boyd mumbled. Golden Feather pecked at his hand where he was holding Derek up and repeated her order. “If you want to speed this up, tell them poison was involved.” The bird let out an irritated caw. Then she rubbed her beak against Derek’s temple again and took off. They emerged from the woods a few minutes later, behind the Alpha’s book shop. The back door was already open as Boyd dragged Derek inside. Alpha Stilinski was on them in an instant, eyes burning red.

“I said find it, not fight it,” he hissed, taking Derek’s other arm and helping Boyd carry him farther into the shop. There was a large hospital bed in the center of the room surrounded by cabinets of medical and magical supplies. 

“It attacked us, Stiles,” Boyd explained. “We were about to turn back and it just charged us.” 

“What was it?” Stiles demanded as they laid Derek down on the bed. He sounded irritated, but underneath it, Derek could hear worry. 

“Gargoyle,” Derek managed. 

“I wasn’t asking you. Pincushions don’t get to tell stories,” Stiles snapped. Derek let out a growl, but Stiles ignored him. “Lydia!”

“Gargoyles have claws, horns, and fangs,” Lydia said, appearing in the room carrying an open book. “Which one did that?” she pointed at the still gaping wound on Derek’s side that was starting to turn green.

“Horns,” Boyd supplied. 

Lydia cursed. “Poison on the fangs and claws is a hyper-concentrated form of hemlock, but the horns can be influenced by the area. Where’d you find it?”

“Hale House. They were near the Hale House when he got hurt,” Stiles said from Derek’s side. Derek looked up at the Alpha, unsure how the other man knew where he’d been hurt. Stiles' eyes were still glowing red as he poured antiseptic onto the wound. Derek howled in pain, arching up off the bed. “Your Alpha’s on her way, but she was in with a client when Boyd called,” Stiles whispered as he pressed Derek back onto the bed. 

“There’s a bunch of wolfsbane in that area. The last time I collected herbs, I grabbed some from there.” Lydia threw open a cabinet and grabbed a glass jar that she promptly slammed down beside Derek. “Goldie!” she yelled. The crow landed on Derek’s chest and tilted her head towards the injury with glowing golden eyes. Then she looked at the contents of the glass jar.

“Hurry,” she cawed out. Stiles didn’t hesitate to dump some of the jar’s contents into his palm. It sparked against his skin and blue smoke rose from it. He jammed the ashes against the wound and Derek roared. His whole body reacting to the pain in his side. He felt his system expel the poison and finally stitch the wound closed. Golden Feather hadn’t moved from his chest. Her eyes were still glowing as she settled down on his chest like it was her new nest. Stiles looked at his familiar and sighed.

“Really Goldie?” Stiles mumbled. Boyd and Lydia smirked at the bird. Golden Feather let the glow fade from her eyes, and Derek swore she looked smug.

“Well,” the Banshees started, “Now that everyone is intact, we need to deal with a gargoyle.” She turned to Derek, who hadn’t moved for fear of disturbing the bird. “You knew what it was?”

“I’ve seen them before,” Derek explained. “Never had to fight one though. A witch a few towns over has one as a pet.” Golden Feather glared down at him as though his speaking was irritating her. Her eyes flashed gold again before she turned away.

Stiles snorted, eyes finally back to whiskey brown. “I bet it’s Sarsaparilla. She was bragging she’d one-upped my golem spell.” Derek scented the air had to resist the urge to go boneless when he caught the strong sweet scent of Stiles’ relief. Golden Feather made a purring sound when she felt him relax anyways. 

“I don’t know much about gargoyles, but I know you don’t have to have magic to control one. You could get a magic-user to make one for just about anyone else. The problem with gargoyles is they’ve got a one-track mind. So, say you tell your gargoyle to guard your house. They will be the best guard dog in the world, but there’s a strong chance you’ll never get in your house again. Or at least until you get rid of the gargoyle. Especially the ones that breathe fire. Since they’re made of stone, they’re hard to kill. You need magic or water. Often both,” Lydia explained. 

“From what I remember, they’re stronger at night, so we’ll have to go after it tomorrow. I can close up the shop and me, and any betas who can, will go take care of it. Lydia, get Parrish to put out some kind of warning to keep the Preserve clear tomorrow. It shouldn’t be a problem, but I don’t want to risk a normie walking into this fight. And, it may not be alone,” Stiles declared. The betas nodded and left the room. Stiles looked down at his bird who seemed to be sleeping on Derek’s chest. “I’ll send Alpha Hale in when she gets here. I’d advise you not to upset Goldie. She can hold a grudge like nobody else.” The Alpha pet his bird then went to follow his betas out, but he hesitated a moment. “She likes you, and she doesn’t like it when people she likes are hurt.” Then he left Derek alone while the familiar on his chest let out that purring sound again. 


	6. Learning Something Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving my fellow Americans!   
> Happy Thursday to the rest of you!  
> This is my first posting of the day. Blue Eyes will be getting an update in the next 24 hours and there's a new one-shot coming just as soon as I run it through Grammarly. 
> 
> The next chapter for this fic will be up in two days' time. Pinky promise.   
> It will be at least eight chapters, which I know for a fact now. Hopefully, that will be it, but I make no promises on that. Fluffy bits tend to run away from me. 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments. Drop a kudos if you're liking it. Hearing from y'all makes my day <3 <3

Lydia and Boyd gave Stiles a knowing look as he joined them in their war room. When he’d bought Golden Feather Books, he’d split the back room into three separate spaces. One was an office for normal shop business stuff and inventory. The second Stiles dubbed the med-bay since most of the pack couldn’t go to the hospital and, after Deaton died, there was no one else to help the supernaturals in town. The third was the war room. It was the biggest of the three and could hold their entire pack and then some around the two large tables. The walls were lined with books on lore and magic and supernatural history. On the far table were dozens of maps of Beacon Hills and the surrounding areas that they used for tracking and planning their defenses. The other table was mostly empty, except for the basket in the center which was kept full of snacks (chips, granola bars, fruit gummies, Reese’s, etc.). Boyd and Lydia had pulled out the map of the Preserve that Stiles had been using to track the recent attacks. “How did you know where he got hurt?” Lydia demanded, crossing her arms. “The attacks have been all over the Preserve. There’s no way you could’ve known he was there unless Golden Feather was watching them and told you.”

“Golden Feather didn’t show up until after we got away,” Boyd said. Lydia’s eyebrows climbed to her hairline.

“I just knew,” Stiles sighed.

“He’s not your beta.”

“I know that Lyds. This wasn’t like when one of the betas gets hurt and I can feel out how bad it is,” Stiles snapped. “It was way too intense to be a pack bond. I could feel it the instant he was hurt. I knew how far away and what direction to go to get to him. I could smell the ash and I knew it was the Hale House.” Stiles had been closing the shop when it happened. Goldie had been flitting from window to window pulling down the shades and he was locking the doors. All of a sudden, he had felt a burning pain rip across his side. He could feel a growl in his chest, smell the ash and pine of the forest surrounding the Hale House. He heard the roar of a creature and the pounding of a heart in his ears that wasn’t his own. Just as quick as it came the sensations were gone. Goldie was already gone when he’d come back to himself, heading to the Hale House to find Derek. 

“You remember the mage?” Boyd asked, eyes flaring gold. Stiles nodded at the non sequitur. “She took all the girls before you broke her spell. She went after Erica, trying to get her to tell her the location of the Nemeton. We were already on our way, but I could feel it when Erica got hurt. I knew exactly where she was. I could even smell the same things she could smell.” Stiles stared at his beta with wide eyes.

“Oh good Lord,” Lydia groaned. Stiles wanted to agree, but he didn’t voice it. Anything he had to say would include the word mate which is not something that he wanted Derek to possibly overhear. He’d admit to himself he found the wolf attractive in more ways than one, but there was no way they were mates. No one deserved to be saddled with Stiles’ baggage. Especially not someone like Derek Hale who was grumbly and growly on the outside but was really just a big softie when you got to know him like Stiles had over the last month. 

“We’ll deal with that later,” Stiles decided. “Who’s in town this week?” 

“Nobody. Just Boyd and Parrish. I think Cora was supposed to come up tonight for a visit so all the Hales are available,” Lydia said, frowning at him.

“I’ll talk to Laura when she comes for Derek. Boyd, did you two drive out to the Preserve together or meet there?” Stiles looked to the other man.

“Met at his house since it was close to the majority of the animal deaths,” Boyd said.

Stiles nodded. “Lyds, take him to get his car. Come back here once you drop him off so that we can make a plan after I talk to Laura.” 

“Fine. But we’re talking about the other thing too.” She flicked her hair and stormed out of the shop, Boyd on her heels. A few minutes later the Hale Alpha slammed into the shop, creepy uncle in tow. Her eyes blazed red when they found Stiles waiting behind the counter.

“Where’s my brother?” she demanded.

“Being pinned down by my traitor of a bird in the med-bay,” Stiles replied calmly. Goldie let out a caw loud enough to be heard in the front of the store, voicing her dislike of Stiles’ phrasing. Laura followed the noise to where Derek was still laying on the hospital bed Golden Feather resting comfortably on his chest. Peter let out a bark of laughter and excused himself from the room. “He's fine,” Stiles said. Goldie turned to look at the new occupants of the room and let out an annoyed caw. Then she hopped to her feet, shook out her feathers, and left them all there, flying out the back-window Stiles left open for her. Derek watched her go as he sat up. His shirt was torn nearly in half, but apart from that, there was no sign he’d been hurt. Laura tackled her brother in a tight hug, pulling him off the bed. 

“I’m fine Laura,” Derek grumbled. Laura just squeezed him tighter. When she let him go, she slapped him.

“Don’t do that again,” she ordered. “I was in the middle of a client meeting when I felt it and I couldn’t do anything about it.” Derek dragged her into a hug again, mumbling something quietly. Stiles left the siblings there and returned to the front of his shop where Peter was looking over one of the books on the counter. Peter looked up with a grin and a glint in his eye.

“Your familiar seems quite fond of my nephew,” Peter said. “Tell me, Mischief, do Sparks have mates?” Stiles went rigid. He felt his eyes flare and the beta immediately tilted his head in submission. “I meant nothing by it.”

“Why do you ask?” Stiles growled.

“Because familiars are quite particular about touch. It would make sense that Golden Feather would be able to sense it if Sparks do in fact have mates.” Peter sighed dramatically. “But I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.”

“Good. When they’re done, bring your pack into the back. We have things to discuss,” Stiles declared. He disappeared back into the war room, looking over the book Lydia had left on Gargoyles. Eventually, the Hale pack filed into the room. Laura stepped forward to examine the maps.

“What happened?” she asked. Stiles pulled his attention away from his book to face the other Alpha.

“A gargoyle has made a nest at the old Hale House. Derek mentioned that he’d seen one before,” Stiles said. Laura nodded. “We don’t know why it’s there, but we know how to beat it. Water and magic. Most of my pack is out of town right now. Only Boyd and Parrish. We’ll need back up.”

“Cora is getting home tonight. I’ll send her with Derek and Peter in the morning. I’m assuming you want to take care of this as quickly as possible.”

“We’ll go out at around nine. Lydia is coming back to help me make a solid plan tonight. You’re welcome to stay and help too.”

Laura shook her head. “Peter can stay if he wants. He’s our strongest planner. Cora probably felt Derek’s pain early so Derek and I should be home when she gets in.”

“Of course.” Stiles nodded. Laura left again, but Derek hesitated.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“No problem, big guy.” Stiles grinned. Derek quickly fled the shop after that, leaving Stiles alone with Peter.

“I’m guessing your emissary knows?” Peter said after a few awkward moments of silence. Stiles nodded. “You know a born wolf will always recognize their mate.”

“Creeperwolf, this is not the time for romantic meddling. Even after we get rid of the gargoyle, we need to figure out who put it there. Gargoyles don’t function without someone giving them orders,” Stiles said.

“Creeperwolf?” Peter asked, sounding amused. Stiles glared at him. “I suppose it’s not the worst nickname.”

“I could just call you Asshole.”

“How unimaginative.”

Taking care of the gargoyle is apparently a simple matter for Alpha Stilinski. Derek followed Stiles back to the old Hale house with Cora, Boyd, and Peter the next morning. Parrish was posted by the road to keep ‘normies’, as Stiles called them, out of the Preserve. The wolves were all on edge, but Stiles was talking non-stop and grinning whenever someone responded to him. Boyd seemed used to it, but Cora kept looking at the Alpha as though she could not understand him. To be honest, Derek didn’t understand it either, but he knew there was something different about Stiles today. His scent was sharper and he was carrying a metal bat that smells of mistletoe and wolfsbane. A bat that he was careful to keep away from the wolves. There was also a water bottle attached to his hip. Derek didn’t quite understand how that little bit of water was going to help stop the gargoyle, but he didn’t ask questions. Cora tried to, but Stiles would just grin and give a non-answer. Far too soon, they arrived on the edge of the woods where Boyd and Derek had seen the gargoyle the day before. It was glaring from atop its nest of rubble, smoke curling around it. It bared its teeth and let out a roar. The wolves roared back, but Stiles held up his hands, suddenly serious.

“Nasty looking thing, aren’t you?” he mused, stepping past the wolves. Derek wanted to grab him, but he held himself back. “No offense to whoever made you, but you can’t stay here.” Stiles popped open the water bottle. “And by here, I mean this plane of existence.” Water suddenly poured from the bottle, like it was a fire hose. The gargoyle didn’t get a chance to react before it was tumbling away from the pressure. Stiles stayed with it, moving around the rubble. Peter, Cora, and Derek followed Boyd’s lead as he stayed near his Alpha. Stiles’ eyes were glowing red as he forced the gargoyle against the ground. The stone was cracking and crumbling. Derek grimaced at the high-pitched screech the gargoyle made as it finally crumbled. Stiles let the water cut off and calmly put the lid back on the bottle. He turned back to the wolves and shrugged.

“I guess it was alone,” Peter sighed. The older wolf looked disappointed. Derek frowned at him.

“And we got up early for nothing,” Cora groaned.

“Not nothing. If you all hadn’t been here, I bet this thing would have had like six friends,” Stiles said, as he knelt down in the muddy ground to look at the remains of the gargoyle. Derek looked over at Boyd.

“I wish he was kidding,” Boyd muttered.

Stiles shrugged again. “We’ve had the worst luck with stuff like this. Anyway, we’re glad for the backup.” He smiled up at the Hale wolves. “Whoever sent this thing here will probably come back and try whatever they were trying again. Keep up the patrols and let me know if you see something strange. Anything at all. In the meantime, Kira’s mom is waiting for me, and I do not want to keep a kitsune waiting.” Stiles started walking back the way he came and Boyd quickly followed. Peter hesitated, looking at the remains of the house before also heading back to where he’d parked. Derek and Cora didn’t. They went the other direction, heading for their new house.

“Think he was being serious?” Cora asked as they walked.

“About what?” Derek asked. He caught a glimpse of Golden Feather flitting between the trees and smirked.

“Having a meeting with a kitsune.”

“Probably. I’ve seen him meet with several nymphs, a dryad, and at least two different fairies in the last month.”

“Why?” Cora frowned, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“He’s the local Alpha. Beacon Hills is his territory so the supernaturals go to him if they have problems.” Derek shrugged. “Used to be the same for Mom.”

Cora’s eyes flared gold and she sped up. “I don’t care that you’ve met your mate and you’re feeling better, Derek. We don’t talk about Mom. We don’t talk about the house. We don’t talk about the fire,” she growled. “I’m glad you’ve come to peace with it, but I can’t.” Derek didn’t respond. Cora let out a snarl and slammed her fist into a tree before running ahead. Derek sighed and walked after her. A moment later, Golden Feather landed on his shoulder. She tilted her head and let out a caw in question.

“Don’t mind Cora. She gets that way sometimes,” Derek said. The bird let out a quiet tut. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of practice with people grieving. Cora didn’t grieve for a long time. None of us really did after the fire. We were too numb. Too worried we’d be found. Too worried we’d be next. Cora was the worst. We didn’t find her until a month after the fire. She didn’t even talk for almost a year. We still don’t know how she got out of the house. Peter was the only one there when the fire started and if he knows how she got out, he’s not saying.” Golden Feather inched closer and picked at Derek’s hair. Then she pressed her beak to his temple. An image flooded his mind of a younger Lydia looking down at Golden Feather.

_“It’s nice to meet you Golden Feather. You’ll be good for Stiles.” Lydia glanced up and over at something. “He won’t admit it, but he’s still hurting from losing his dad. He won’t talk to me or Scott about it. I hope he talks to you.”_ The image faded and Golden Feather flashed golden eyes at Derek. Derek realized he’d stopped moving.

He gulped. “What-what was that?”

“Listening,” Golden Feather croaked in a voice that sounded like Lydia. She picked at his hair again. “You too,” she said, voice sounding like Stiles. She tilted her head, and Derek carefully reached up and pet her feathers. She let out a purr.

“Thank you, Golden Feather,” Derek said.

The bird tilted her head again, seeming to consider something. “Goldie,” she said in Stiles’ voice again.

“Thanks, Goldie,” Derek smirked. Suddenly, Golden Feather flashed red eyes and took off faster than he’d ever seen the bird move. A moment later, a caw echoed through the forest, loud enough that Derek was sure the whole of Beacon Hills had heard it. It vibrated through his bones and he just knew. Stiles was in trouble.

Stiles got back to his shop to find the door already open, which wasn’t surprising. Kira had given her mother a key and her mother was an impatient woman. If Stiles was as late as he thought he was, there was a good chance Noshiko had decided to just take what she was looking for and leave a note for Stiles to contact her later. The only problem with that was she tended to leave the door unlocked when she left. Stiles sighed as he pushed into his shop. The second he felt his wards he knew something was very wrong. Someone had tampered with them and he felt them starting to attack him. He burned through the wards quickly but after the water magic earlier, he was starting to feel drained. He didn’t let his Spark settle though. He felt his eyes flare red as he moved further into his shop. Nothing looked out of place. His book was still on the counter, glasses sitting on top of it. He went into the back heading for the war room where Noshiko would be if she’d waited for him. His stomach dropped as he walked in. Noshiko was on the floor, leaning against the furthest bookshelf unconscious. Stiles dropped his bat as he rushed forward and that was his mistake. Something slammed into the back of his head and the world went dark.


	7. Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the next chapter, two days later. More pain ahead. I will hurt Stiles. Next chapter should be pain and fluff. Hopefully, the end, though it's not written yet so it will be a few days before it's up. 
> 
> I love hearing from y'all. Thank y'all so much for the response to this.  
> Drop some comments or kudos if you like what you've read so far.

Derek ran after Golden Feather chasing the bird through the woods. At some point, Cora joined him. They emerged at the back of Golden Feather Books and the door was propped open. Inside, Peter and Laura were waiting for them in the War Room. Golden Feather, eyes still red, was sitting on the table glaring at a woman Derek didn’t recognize. The room smelled of gunpowder and wolfsbane. The woman had a fierce glare that was fixed on Laura. “What happened?” Derek growled looking at the woman. Golden Feather let out an angry caw at her before flying to perch on Derek’s shoulder. She looked between the familiar, the growling betas, and the worried Alpha.

“I don’t know for sure. I was waiting for Alpha Stilinski when someone knocked me out.” The woman rose and held out her hand. “I’m Noshiko Yukimura. My daughter is a beta in Alpha Stilinski’s pack.” Laura took her hand.

“I’m Alpha Laura Hale. We have an agreement with Alpha Stilinski. Is there anything else you remember?” Laura asked.

“Whoever attacked me, likely took Alpha Stilinski too. He was gone when I woke up and his bat was by the door.” Noshiko gestured to the metal bat laying on the table. Before anyone could respond, Lydia barreled into the room, with Boyd on her heels. She fixed her eyes on Noshiko.

“Noshiko, call Kira, get her down here now. Parrish is finding someone to take over for him and he’ll be here soon,” Lydia ordered. Noshiko nodded and removed herself from the war room to place the call. “Derek, what happened?”

Derek flashed his eyes. “How should I know?”

“He knew. He felt what happened to you. It can go both ways,” Lydia insisted. Derek paled. That meant that Stiles knew they were mates.

“Only if he’s been hurt,” Laura said, forcing the banshee to redirect her focus. “And he’s conscious. Mates can’t feel everything unless they’re actually mated.” Lydia let out a quiet growl, and Boyd rested his hand heavily on her shoulder.

“It was hunters,” Boyd said.

“We can smell that,” Derek snarled. Golden Feather let out a quiet caw in warning.

“The only hunters in the area are the Calaveras, according to my last conversation with Alpha Ito,” Peter volunteered darkly. “I know where they’ve been set up for the last week or so.”

“We can’t just storm their house hoping that’s where they’re keeping him,” Laura said. “Lydia, the rest of your pack…”

“Everyone except Kira will have heard Golden Feather. I’ve already heard from Allison, Scott, and Liam, who are on their way. I’m guessing Erica and Isaac are too. Malia tends to jump in before letting us make a plan. She’ll be wherever she can find his scent. If she can’t find him, she’ll come here, and she may very well be in her full shift,” Lydia sighed. “Once Allison’s here we can send her to talk to the Calaveras. Hopefully, Kira will be here by then, so we can send them together. Kira seems human but has advanced senses, so she’ll be able to tell if Stiles is at the Calaveras.” There was a knock on the doorframe and Noshiko entered again.

“Kira is on her way. If there is something I can do, please let me know,” Noshiko said. She inclined her head to Laura and gave a little bow in Derek’s direction. It took him a second to realize she was bowing to the bird on his shoulder.

“Go,” Goldie cawed irritably. Noshiko nodded and left, obeying the bird. 

“Until they get here, we can try and track Stiles,” Laura declared. “Derek, you and Boyd are most familiar with his scent. See if you can find him.” Derek nodded and headed for the back door.

“Wait,” Lydia said. Derek stopped and turned back to face her. “Golden Feather isn’t going to leave you alone, but without Stiles, she’s vulnerable. Do not let her get hurt,” the banshee ordered. Derek flashed his eyes and barreled out the door after Boyd. They searched the whole town for Stiles’ scent. At some point more of Stiles’ betas joined them, hunting from all directions and coming up empty. There was even a werecoyote who showed up in her full shift and joined Boyd and Derek in their search. It was pointless. By the time the sunset, the whole Stilinski pack was in town and they had gathered at Golden Feather books. Someone had managed to convince Malia, the werecoyote, to shift back and all of them settled around the large tables in the War Room. Only one of the chairs wasn’t occupied and it was the one in front of Stiles’ bat. 

“All right!” Laura snapped. “One at a time.” Her eyes flared red. Silence fell over the betas. Golden Feather, who had stayed with Derek the whole day, looked at Allison Argent.

“Kira and I met with the Calaveras,” Allison said. “They claim it wasn’t them, and Kira didn’t smell anything while we were there. They mentioned not going after established packs was a part of their code and the faction of the Calavera family that’s here is pretty good about adhering to the code. They did mention they had a group of theirs break off when they decided to leave Beacon Hills alone. Most of their house was in boxes, so I’m inclined to believe that they didn’t have anything to do with this.” 

“They weren’t lying while they talked to us,” another girl volunteered. Derek assumed she was Kira.

“We couldn’t catch his scent anywhere in town,” Scott said.

“Can’t Golden Feather find him?” Laura asked. “I thought familiars were tied to their magic users.”

“They are, but there is any number of ways to block a familiar from their magic-user,” Lydia said.

“Most hunters carry iron chains when they go after witches for that reason,” Allison offered. “We still have a couple sets leftover from my parents.”

“The group that broke off from the Calaveras,” Peter interjected. “What do we know about them?”

“Araya said they were Argents who joined the family after Gerard died,” Allison said.   
“I think it’s safe to assume they are the ones who took Mischief,” Peter growled. “After all, he’s the reason the Argents died.” 

“Then we know where they are,” Derek said. All eyes turned to him.  
“We do?” Lydia asked darkly. Derek nodded.  
Laura sighed. “If they’re Argents, then yes, we probably do. They probably took him to the tunnels.”   
“What tunnels?” Parrish asked, frowning.   
“There is a small web of tunnels that can be accessed at several points throughout town built by the Hale family for a quick escape. The Argents sealed off the entrance under the original Hale House with Mountain Ash the night of the fire,” Peter explained. “There are several bunkers and, admittedly, dungeon-like rooms meant for survival situations or containment during the full moons.” 

“How do we get in the tunnels?” Lydia asked. Derek moved to the other table and pulled out the largest map there. He laid it out on the table the packs were sitting at. 

“There are entrances at the school, the library, town hall, and the old Hale House.” Derek pointed to each place as he spoke. “They’re probably closest to the Hale House since that’s the entrance they would know about. Laura, Boyd, and I can go through the house. Scott can take Cora, Malia, and Allison through the school entrance. Peter can take the rest in through town hall. Scott and Peter’s groups go in first. We’ll wait five minutes before going in. That way, most of us will be there when the fighting starts.” Most of the packs were nodding as Derek laid out the plan, but Scott was glaring at him.

“Why do you get to make the plan?” Scott pouted. “I’m Stiles’ second.”

“Doesn’t matter. His plan is better than anything you could come up with under pressure,” Lydia said dismissively. “Besides, he outranks you.” Derek ducked his head and Golden Feather let out a quiet caw. Lydia grabbed Stiles’ bat and a bag that sounded like it was full of glass bottles. “Let’s go.” Scott’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no one else from either pack paid him any attention. They just divided into their groups and got ready for a fight.

Stiles woke up gradually. His limbs felt heavy and his head throbbed. He could hear someone talking nearby, but it wasn’t loud enough for him to make out the words. He pried his eyes open slowly, knowing from experience that trying to move quickly after a head injury was always a bad idea. Surprisingly, he didn’t have that much experience with being kidnapped. Most of the time, hunters weren’t stupid enough to kidnap the Alpha as their opening move. Then again, the heavy chains he could feel holding him up were made of iron which would block Goldie from finding him. So maybe these hunters weren’t as stupid as they seemed. Wherever they were keeping him, wasn’t well lit. There were several work lights spread out around the stone room, but they didn’t do much to make it visible. Stiles was chained to what seemed like a chain-link fence that someone had built a wall out of. He rolled his shoulders testing his range of motion, which unfortunately alerted his kidnappers to his awakening. Two men appeared from beyond one of the lights like shadows. The bigger one crossed his arms while the smaller of the two approached. “So you’re the human Alpha,” the smaller man sneered. He had a nasal voice that grated on Stiles’ ears. He was shorter than Stiles with messy blond hair and pale blue eyes. Strapped to his hips were two .45s. Stiles decided to call him Overkill, and the bigger man Giant, since he was taller than Boyd.

Stiles bared his teeth and flashed his eyes. “In the flesh,” he hissed.

“You’re the Sheriff’s brat,” Overkill said. Stiles held down his reaction. It had been a long time since anyone had called him that. Before his father died, it had been commonplace. Especially by the deputies and his teachers. No one had the heart to call him that after the Sheriff was killed. “Kate mentioned you. She called you dangerous. You and your little Spark.” So they were Argent diehards. Goody. “Shame you had to fall in with the mutts before we could get to you. With your power, we could take out any pack we wanted.”

“What do you want?” Stiles growled. Overkill shrugged.   
“From you? Nothing. I’m after your pack of mongrels. Carl here…” Overkill gestured to the giant, who was apparently named Carl. “Well, Carl was pretty fond of the Argents. I think he wants some payback. With interest for the long wait.” Carl stepped forward and flicked out a knife. Something dark flickered behind his eyes. Stiles took a deep breath and braced himself.

“Go for it, asshat.” The first cut hurt the worst.


	8. Children of the Wild Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> I am so so so sorry for how long this took and for the fact that I’m not finished with the story yet. Like, you have no idea how much I wanted to finish this in eight chapters, but now it shall be nine with the possibility for an epilogue if there’s enough interest. This chapter was really hard for me to write because I struggle so much with fight scenes. There’s a lot of blood and violence in this chapter so if that bothers you please be aware of that. The next chapter is much more fluffy, but we needed the whump first. I hurt Stiles pretty bad. 
> 
> I promise it will be up much faster than this chapter was. I’m hoping to have it up by Christmas at the latest. It’ll depend on how editing goes.
> 
> Thank y’all for sticking with me so far. Let me know what you think with comments and kudos.

Derek felt something cut into his chest as they drove to the tunnels. He flinched but pressed forward, now sure in where he was headed. The cuts kept coming, but the connection was fading. At least he knew they were going in the right direction when they entered the tunnels. Golden Feather hadn’t moved from his shoulder. Her eyes were still glowing red as they worked their way through the dark tunnel. The first hunter they encountered went down without a sound. Boyd had him on the ground before he’d even raised his gun. Laura took down the next one, slamming his head into the wall hard enough to knock him out. They were getting closer now and Derek could catch a faint scent of Stiles as they moved. Peter emerged from the juncture ahead of them in his beta shift while he slammed a hunter into the ground. Peter got up. The hunter didn’t. Kira and Liam, the youngest of Stiles’ betas, stepped around Peter and nodded to Derek’s group before heading down another tunnel, away from Stiles’ scent, where they could hear more fighting. Peter followed them, but Erica, a blonde-haired beta and Boyd’s mate, stepped in beside Boyd as their group kept moving towards Stiles. Isaac, another beta with blonde hair and a stupid looking scarf, joined them not long after that, staying near Derek with his claws out. They ran into more hunters but took them down just as quickly. They emerged in a large open room after a while and Laura stopped. In front of them were the remainders of the hunters. Scott’s group, plus Peter, Kira, and Liam were on the opposite side of the room already fighting, but there was something different about these hunters. The room reeked of magic and there was clearly a magic-user of some kind boosting the hunters and their weapons. Laura roared and joined the fight, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac on her heels,

Derek ignored the rest of the fighting, letting the other betas and Laura deal with hunters as he sought out Stiles’ scent. He dodged the arrows that flew across the room, seemingly without a clear target, and avoided the hunters as he found the source of the lightning and cinnamon scent. There was a door on the edge of the room blocked off by mountain ash. The closer he got to it, the stronger Stiles’ scent was. It was tinged with blood. Derek knew he was half shifted and growling, control hanging on by a thread. Golden Feather flew down from her perch on his shoulder and broke the line of ash with a gust of air. Derek slammed the door open and saw Stiles. The human Alpha was chained up, suspended off the ground. His torso was littered with cuts and bruises. His wrists were red from the chains on him and one of his eyes was swollen shut. Blood dripped from his mouth. There were burn marks on his sides and electrodes connected to his chest. Derek’s vision bled red and he let out a roar as he lost himself to the wolf.

Carl and Overkill had stayed in the room when Stiles heard the fighting start. They had heard it too, taking a break from beating him to arm themselves. Most of Stiles hurt. He’d lost track of what all had been done to him after Overkill had joined Carl in his giddy torture. When they thought he was starting to lose too much blood to the cuts and beatings (with a bat, which Stiles thought was unfair) they’d switched to tasers and strapped some electrodes to him. After that, Stiles wasn’t present. He was floating in a state of constant pain. He was honestly surprised he hadn’t passed out before Derek had found him. The beta crashed through the door in his full beta shift, mutton chops and fangs on full display. Golden Feather flew in after him, immediately landing on Stiles’ shoulder, but she couldn’t heal him until they got the chains off. Derek took in the scene before him and let out a roar that shook the room. He pounced at Carl knocking the two of them out of Stiles’ limited field of vision. Carl didn’t even have a chance to scream. What Stiles could make out from the shadows on the wall and the splatter of blood told a gruesome story. But Derek didn’t stand back up. In fact, his shadow, which was all Stiles could see of him, seemed to hunch in on itself as it continued to shift. Overkill, who Stiles assumed could see all of what was happening to Derek, had dropped his .45s and was backing up in shock. A second later, Stiles saw why. A wolf, much larger than any normal wolf could be, with pitch-black fur and glowing blues prowled towards Overkill. Lydia appeared in the doorway as the wolf, who Stiles assumed was Derek, leaped at Overkill and chomped down on the hunter’s neck. She was gripping Stiles’ bat in one hand and one of her many bottles in the other. She looked at Derek in shock. Derek ignored her, coming over to where Stiles was still chained up and letting out a loud whine. Golden Feather hopped over and landed on Derek’s head, pecking him once. Instantly, Derek stopped whining and stepped back, looking expectantly at Lydia who stared back with wide green eyes. Stiles could hear the fighting still happening outside the room.

“Lydia,” he managed. The Banshee’s head snapped from the wolf to Stiles. “Come on.” 

She paled. “Gods, Stiles,” she breathed. She tucked the bottle back into her bag and set his bat on the table holding the knives and tasers Overkill and Carl had been using. Moving slowly past Derek and Golden Feather, she pulled out a bottle of acid from her bag, opened it, and passed it up to Stiles’. It had taken some experimenting (and over three years) on their part to find an acid that wouldn’t hurt him too badly but would weaken iron enough that he could break out. He carefully tipped it out on the iron, still trying to keep as much of it off his skin as possible. Once he had one hand free, he repeated the process on his other wrist. He nearly fell to the ground when he was finally free. Goldie perched on his shoulder and he felt her magic seep into him boosting his own and letting him start to heal. Derek let out a whine and shoved into Stiles’ space sniffing at his wounds and licking over them. 

“Easy,” Stiles said, shoving a little at the wolf. Derek just huffed and pressed closer but was mindful not to hurt the Alpha. Stiles wasn’t sure how present the beta was, but he wasn’t going to argue with a wolf that was nearly as tall as Lydia. Lydia waited for a moment before holding out his bat. 

“They’ve got a witch. Boyd, Parrish, and Kira are all down. Scott’s stopped healing and Cora was shot with wolfsbane. I know you’re hurt, but we need our Alpha,” Lydia said. Then she glanced at Derek. “And an extra wolf couldn’t hurt.” Stiles nodded and took his bat, using it to support his weight as he stood up. Derek pressed himself into Stiles, helping him balance. Stiles let his eyes flare red and summoned up his Spark. Golden Feather responded to the change by pushing her own magic harder to heal him. When he felt steady enough, he nodded to Lydia and followed his emissary into the fight. 

The room was a mess. Boyd and Parrish were both unconscious and had been pulled off to the side, guarded by Erica and Isaac, who had an arrow sticking out of his arm. Kira was on the other side of the room, propped against the wall, but awake and sandwiched between Scott and Cora, who were both bleeding and Stiles could see the black veins of wolfsbane creeping up Cora’s arm. Kira was gripping her side, looking incredibly pale. Her katana was missing. Only four hunters were standing, not counting the witch. Liam and Peter were facing down two of them in a weird sort of tag team. The young wolf used his speed to distract them while Peter attempted to strike them down, managing to land a few good hits every time. Allison had taken up residence on a table, shooting arrows at any hunter who got too close to the injured packmates on either side of the room. Malia was in her full shift keeping the two other hunters distracted and taking bites and swipes at them whenever they got too close to her. The Witch had separated herself from the main fighting and was staring down another black wolf much like the one at Stiles’ side though she was bigger and had glowing red eyes. The Witch threw spell after spell at the wolf, who Stiles assumed was Laura, but none of them hit. Laura was too fast, but she couldn’t get close enough to the Witch to take her down.

“Lydia help Malia,” Stiles ordered. The Banshee nodded and pulled a black bottle from her bag with a grimace as she sprinted over to the werecoyote. Stiles hefted his bat. “Goldie, glow.” The bird flew from his shoulder and started circling the room, letting off a golden glow that grew brighter as she sped up. The hunters and the Witch had to shield their eyes from the sudden light, but Stiles’ pack and the Hale pack weren’t affected. Stiles used his Spark to put on a burst of speed and intercept the most recent of the Witch’s spells before it could hit Laura. He caught it with his bat and hit it back at the witch who screamed but didn’t go down. Derek was glued to his side as Stiles pushed his spark into the bat, which started glowing alpha red. 

“The Alpha,” the witch hissed as she recovered from whatever spell she’d thrown. “The human and his pack of wolves.”

Stiles shrugged, ignoring his injuries which were still trying to heal and hurting as he marched towards the witch. Laura and Derek followed with him. “Guilty as charged. But, as you can see, I’m not the only Alpha here.” He gestured to Laura who helpfully let out a growl. He swung his bat at the witch. She jumped back with a curse, blinking against the blinding light that was still filling the room. She tried to dodge around them, but she misjudged where they were, and Derek pinned her to the ground when she got close. Stiles quickly pressed the top of his bat into the witch’s neck. He muttered a spell and her magic moved into his bat. It was a sickly brown color that was quickly overtaken by red again. She screamed and thrashed under Derek, but the wolf just growled. Laura had shifted back and was beside Stiles watching in fascination as the witch’s magic dissipated. When Stiles stepped back, he let his Spark settle and called Goldie back down with a whistle. He saw Laura open her mouth and knew she was speaking, but he had pushed his limits as far as he could for the day and his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want an epilogue, start bugging me for it now.


	9. At the End of the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear Readers,  
> This is the end!
> 
> Though, not really because, due to popular demand, there will be an epilogue which I have started writing and should be done by Friday. 
> 
> Thank y'all for sticking with me and for all the wonderful comments and kudos while I've been working on this, I hope this doesn't disappoint.

Derek came back to himself as a wolf. He hadn’t been in control for most of the fight and could only recall bits of it. He could still taste copper in his mouth from where he’d evidently bitten someone and there was blood staining his fur and claws. He was alone in the med-bay with Stiles and Goldie. He could feel the bird’s claws on his back where she was perched, watching her Spark. Derek was curled into Stiles’ side, with him on the bed. He carefully raised his head and scanned the Alpha. Most of the bruising was gone. As were the cuts, there they had left scars. The electric burns were still healing and Derek could smell the exhaustion on his mate. He felt himself let out a whine as he sniffed gently around the remaining bruises on the man’s rib cage. Derek suspected he’d had some broken ribs that had since been healed. Golden Feather tapped her beak gently against Derek’s head. Derek looked back at her curiously. “Back?” she asked. Derek blinked as his sister’s voice came from the bird. Derek dipped his head in a nod. She let out an excited chirp and flew off. Derek watched her leave but didn’t follow. He settled his head carefully on his paws as close to Stiles as he dared. Stiles let out a quiet groan and his hand dug into the fur around his neck. Derek leaned into the touch and felt the Alpha relax a little still asleep. A while later, Goldie returned and reclaimed her place on Derek’s back. Laura and Lydia followed her. Both women had changed clothes and smelled of soap instead of blood and grime. 

Laura scrunched her nose up a bit as she approached the bed. “You in there, Der-bear?” she asked. Derek let out a growl at the nickname, but dipped his head a bit, being careful not to jostle Stiles.

“Does that mean I can take a look at him now?” Lydia scowled tiredly. Derek blinked at her and Laura let out a sigh.

“I told you. If Stiles had been in real danger, Derek would have let someone help him. I suspect Golden Feather would have forced him to. But Stiles is fine.” Laura paused and glanced at the still unconscious Alpha. “Mostly, anyway. Trying to get a wolf who’s lost control away from their mate just ends with a lot more people hurt.”

“And I told you I need to make sure Stiles is okay _myself_ ,” Lydia hissed. Derek looked between the two women. Something had changed in the way Lydia was holding herself around Laura that had nothing to do with injuries or stress, but Derek could figure out what.

Laura rolled her eyes and gestured to the bed. “Be my guest.” Lydia took a moment to glare at her before turning her attention to Stiles. The Banshee carefully examined each of Stiles remaining injuries while Derek watched. At one point she pressed on Stiles’ ribs, causing the man’s scent to spike with pain and Derek let out a low growl. Lydia eyed him warily but continued her examination. When she finished, she visibly deflated and all but collapsed against the wall. Laura reached for her in alarm. “Lydia!” Lydia waved her off.

“He’s okay,” she breathed. She leaned her head back and let her eyes close. Laura looked panicked, but Derek couldn’t scent anything except relief from the redhead. Laura inched closer to Lydia and squatted down in front of her.

“Lydia?” Laura said again. Lydia opened her eyes and fixed them on Laura in determination.

“I felt it,” Lydia said abruptly.

“What?”

“When the witch hit you with that first spell. The one that made you shift. I felt it. So did Jordan. That’s how they managed to knock him out. He was distracted. He told me when he woke up.” Laura opened and closed her mouth several times before finally just leaning close to take in Lydia’s scent. Derek watched in curiosity as his sister tensed all over and her eyes flared red. Lydia smirked. “Help me up, wolf.” She reached out her hand which Laura took instantly. The two women looked over at Derek and Stiles. 

Golden Feather tutted at them. “Got it. Go,” she snapped in Stiles’ voice. Lydia rolled her eyes. Derek would have smirked if he could’ve at the stunned look on Laura’s face as she was dragged from the room. He relaxed at Stiles’ side as he waited for his mate to wake up. 

Stiles woke up warm. Like overwhelmingly warm. Goldie’s healing magic always left a little heat when it was finished but this was different. He felt like he was suffocating in the heat. As he came back to awareness, he realized exactly why he felt so hot. A big black wolf was curled over him, head resting near his neck, both of them laying on the bed in the med-bay. The wolf was heavy, which didn’t help at all with the heat. For a moment, Stiles had no idea how he’d gotten to this point, but then he remembered the fight. And Derek, who had somehow managed a full shift. Stiles figured that Derek had stayed with him after the fight, though he had no clue why he was still fully shifted. Derek woke up as Stiles shifted under him, sleepily looking down at the Alpha. When he realized Stiles was awake, he let out a quiet, happy-sounding yip. Then he stood up, straddling Stiles, and jumped off the bed. Goldie let out an amused caw from wherever she had perched herself. Derek looked up at one of the shelves to glare at the bird before he shook out his fur. Stiles rolled his eyes. “How long was I out, Goldie?” Stiles asked with a yawn. 

“Three days,” Goldie cawed, sounding like Lydia. Stiles stretched out his arm and Golden Feather flew down to it.

“Get me up to speed?” Stiles asked. Goldie let her eyes flare gold.

“No,” she said in Derek’s voice. The wolf looked at her, somehow radiating how unimpressed he was at the imitation. “Lydia.” Stiles raised his eyebrows.

“All right. Then go get her,” he sighed. Goldie bobbed her head and took off heading through the window. Stiles sighed again. “I guess I’ll be waiting a while for that.” He eyed Derek. “Unless you can help me out.” Derek let out a huff and sat down, staring at Stiles. “You are Derek right?” Derek looked at the ceiling, apparently having tried to roll his eyes. Stiles laughed. “Just checking. Malia’s the only one of my pack who has a full shift. I’m not used to actual wolves. Can you shift back?” Derek shook his head. “But you’re not out of control. You’re just stuck.” Derek huffed. “All right.” Stiles shrugged and managed to get to his feet. He dug through one of the cabinets for a change of clothes. “Stay,” he said with a grin. Derek growled at him. Stiles went to change in the shop’s bathroom, cleaning the blood and dirt off himself as best he could without a shower. He’d have to wait until he got home that night, but he needed to know how his pack was doing before he did that. Plus he had to make sure that the hunters knew it was a justified fight or they’d descend on Beacon Hills in droves. Stiles tried to clear his head. There was time for that later. Pack first.

By the time he’d returned to the Med-Bay, Golden Feather had too. She had settled on Derek’s head. The wolf perked up when he noticed Stiles, getting to his feet, but being careful not to disturb the bird. Stiles laughed at the picture it made. “You act all grumbly, but you’re really just a softie, aren’t you, big guy?” Derek let out another growl, but Stiles just laughed again. “Don’t be such a Sourwolf. I think it’s sweet.” Stiles walked past them heading for the war room where he knew there would be something to eat. He dug a protein bar out of the basket on the first table and basically inhaled it. The wolf and crow had followed him and were watching from where Derek had settled on the ground by Stiles’ chair. Stiles found his glasses and the book he’d been reading before taking a seat at the table to wait for Lydia. 

“MIECZYSLAW GENIM STILINSKI!” Lydia yelled as she stormed into the shop. Stiles let out a yelp dropping his book. Golden Feather fluttered up to the table, her feathers ruffled from being suddenly and accidentally thrown from a startled wolf’s back. Derek was on his feet baring his teeth at the Banshee who ignored him. 

“Lydia,” Stiles said quickly as he stood up. He held his hand out in front of him as though that would stop her approach.

“Three days!” she snapped. “Three days! You have left me worried and alone with two packs of injured confused wolves for three days! Then you don’t even bother to call when you wake up. You send your bird!” Golden Feather tutted at her. Lydia glared at the bird. 

“Uh…”

“Do you know that your dumbass mate over there lost control when you were hurt and wouldn’t let me near you for six WHOLE HOURS??!!” she growled. Stiles gulped stepping back wide-eyed. Derek let out a growl but didn’t seem to be brave enough to put himself between emissary and Alpha. “Six hours without being able to make sure you were ok. I swear to all the Gods, if you do that again, you won’t have to worry about hunters finishing you off. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Stiles nodded. “Yep. Got it. No more getting kidnapped. Lydia’s orders. I’ll be sure the world knows.” Lydia glared at him. Then she suddenly wrapped him in a tight hug.

“I was worried, you bastard,” she mumbled. Stiles gripped her back, just as tightly, pushing comfort through their pack bond.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I’m okay now.” Stiles rubbed her back a little. “It won’t happen again.” Lydia stepped back out of his space, glaring at him again.

“It better not.” She shot a glare at Derek. “That goes for both of you.” Derek ducked his head a little. Stiles looked at him and suppressed a grin at the nerves that the wolf had started giving off. Then he noticed the other people in the room. 

“Parrish. Alpha Hale.” Stiles nodded to them with a frown. He pointed at Parrish. “Don’t touch anything.” Then he looked back at Lydia and raised an eyebrow in question.

“You missed a few things,” the Banshee huffed. “First things first. Laura?” She turned to the other Alpha.

“You may have noticed that Derek’s in his full shift,” Laura said, gesturing at her brother.

“Kind of hard to miss a big black wolf walking around my shop. Especially when I woke up with him on top of me,” Stiles said, nodding. Laura grinned and Derek looked betrayed, as much as a wolf could look betrayed. “He’s stuck.”

“He’s never fully shifted before,” she explained. “He doesn’t know how to get back.”

“Right. Uh, so do all of you have full shifts?”

“No. It runs in our family, but not every Hale can fully shift. The only ones who try are Alphas and those who have a solid bond with their mate.” Laura glared at Derek. Derek pressed himself against Stiles’ side, hiding from his sister’s gaze. Stiles absently let his hand drop into the wolf’s fur. “The reason we usually wait is that we need a way back when we shift. Something stronger than a normal anchor. A normal anchor can help you keep control when you shift, but it takes a strong anchor to pull you back to human. Alphas have that pull through their pack bonds and the responsibilities of them. A solid mating bond works the same way. Obviously, Derek doesn’t have either of those at the moment.” 

“So?” Stiles prompted.

“The only other way to pull back a full shift is to have their Alpha force them to shift,” Lydia explained, cutting off Laura. Stiles looked between them.

“So why haven’t you?” He frowned.

“She tried,” Parrish snorted. “Whole of Beacon County heard her try.” Stiles frowned again, eyes flitting around the room until they fixed on the wolf at his side. His stomach dropped.

“It didn’t work because his mate is an Alpha,” Stiles realized. Laura and Lydia nodded. “Right.” He focused on Lydia. “Give us a minute?” Lydia nodded and pulled both Laura and Parrish from the room. Stiles frowned. Laura’s pliability in the Banshee’s grip was something he needed to figure out after he was done with Derek. Stiles knelt beside the wolf, looking into hazel eyes. “For the record, we are so talking about how you’ve known I was your mate since we met. I didn’t know until you got hurt, which I think is unfair since the only way I would’ve known if you didn’t get hurt is through a bird who refused to tell me.” Stiles glanced at Goldie. She cawed at him, flashing her eyes gold in amusement. Stiles took a deep breath. “All right. So, obviously, I’m not a wolf and I can’t force you to shift the same way that a normal Alpha would. I don’t howl or roar. So, just, hold still and I promise I won’t hurt you, okay?” Stiles waited for Derek to dip his head in a nod. “Okay.” Stiles summoned up his Spark and let his eyes bleed red. Then he reached out and pressed his hand to the wolf’s chest. He let the Alpha instinct guide his Spark as he pushed at the magic that made Derek a werewolf. He felt his own magic tugging at Derek and the beta started shifting. Stiles wanted to close his eyes, but the instinct wouldn’t let him until Derek had shifted back fully. He hoped it wasn’t nearly as painful as it looked. His Spark settled and he let his eyes fade back to normal. He tentatively pulled his hand back, still staring at Derek. 

“Thanks,” Derek mumbled. His eyes were bright red as he ducked his head. Stiles smirked.

“Anytime Sourwolf.” Stiles stood up and brushed off his jeans. “We’ll get you some clothes. Then I need to check on my pack. After that, you and I are going on a date and having some necessary conversations.”

“A date? Really?” Derek looked up at him, eyes full of hope. Stiles smiled broadly and held out his hand.

“Really,” he declared. Derek smiled back. A small soft smile that melted Stiles’ heart a little bit. Then he took Stiles’ hand and got to his feet. Suddenly, Derek was crowding Stiles against the table.

“I don’t think I can wait that long,” Derek admitted. Before Stiles could respond, Derek was kissing him and his brain short-circuited. Stiles kissed back for a moment before Golden Feather cawed at them and they broke apart gasping.

“Clothes. Pack. Date,” Stiles repeated breathlessly. “Then we can get back to that.” He let his eyes wander over Derek’s naked form then he darted forward and stole another quick kiss. “Maybe skip the date.” Derek laughed. 


	10. Epilogue: A New Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y'all,
> 
> Thanks for the prayers and vibes. Thankfully, my whole family is now recovering and starting to go back to work. Here is the promised Epilogue which is all fluff with a dash of Peter. 
> 
> Thank y'all so much for the response to this story. I'm so glad that so many people have enjoyed it and I hope you like this little dash of fluff. 
> 
> Stay Safe in this insane world, and I hope you find more stories to fill your time! I love y'all <3 <3 <3

_ 3 years later _

The crow dropped the stuffed wolf on his lap with a delighted caw. Derek grinned at her. “Good job, Goldie.”

“Always,” she chirped in Lydia’s voice. She inclined her head and Derek gently ran his fingers down her back. She purred at him before taking off again. Likely to annoy Peter who was lurking by the town limits, watching for her Spark. Derek tied his gift around the wolf’s neck and sat it in the center of their bed. He took his time finishing the meal, knowing that it would likely be sitting for a while once Stiles got home, after he found the wolf. Half an hour after everything was prepared, Peter sent him a text informing him that Alpha Stilinski was back in Beacon Hills. Derek took a seat in the bedroom to wait. A few minutes later, he heard Stiles put his key in the lock. 

“Derek?” He called out. Derek tracked him as he moved through the apartment. Finally Stiles entered the bedroom. “There you are,” he grinned. “Why are you hiding in here? I know you heard me come in.”

“I wanted to ask you something, and I thought it would be easier in here,” Derek said. He shifted a bit and patted the bed next to him where the stuffed wolf was sitting. Stiles saw the wolf and frowned.

“Where’d you get that?” He scooped up the wolf as he joined Derek on the bed, melting into the werewolf’s side instantly.

“Goldie found him for me.” Derek slid his arm around Stiles, tugging him close. “I asked her too.” Stiles looked up at him, still frowning.

“How’d you even know about him?”

“You told me his name was Wilk. You handed him to me the first time we met and told me I could hold onto him until I felt better or I found my own wolf,” Derek said quietly. 

“I remember that,” Stiles breathed. “That was the night of the fire.” He shoved himself up and back a little to look at Derek, setting the wolf down as he did. “But what are you doing with him now.”

“I figured it was time to give him back. It turns out I didn’t need to find a wolf. Just a Mate.” Derek picked up the wolf and turned it so that it’s new collar was where Stiles would notice it. Then he pressed it into Stiles’ hands. He knew the instant Stiles found the ring tied around the wolf’s neck, because the Alpha let out a little gasp. “I want to make it official, for humans and wolves. If you want to.”

Stiles looked up at him with tears in his whiskey brown eyes. “Yes. Of course. Yes.” He dove at Derek and kissed him deeply. Derek felt his wolf howl in delight under his skin, and he felt the way the Alpha’s spark vibrated in response. 

  
  


Peter heard the rumor while he was visiting Venice. It was just a whisper passed in a cafe just off St. Mark’s Square, filled with tourists, mostly American. Including the two women behind him who were speaking. “Did you hear?” a woman whispered. Peter had been following her all morning. She smelled of fire and feathers, and he suspected she was a phoenix. 

“What?” her companion, a small river kitsune, replied with a sigh. 

“You remember that pack from a few years ago? The one in California that stopped Deucalion?”

“Of course. Everyone knows about the human Alpha who stopped the demon wolf.”

“You remember how no one knew where they came from, right? Well, now we know.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re Hales.”

The kitsune let out a snort. “The Hales died. The whole pack was destroyed and the Alpha still hasn’t met her mate. They can’t be Hales.” Peter left the money for his coffee on the table and went to leave, listening as the phoenix insisted that the Hales were back. She was right of course. The Hale pack was gone, though the Hales had survived. They were a part of the Stilinski Pack. A new pack that had risen from the ashes.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit- epilogue delayed due to COVID. I'll post it here once I have the energy and head space to finish writing it but I have no idea when that will be. Sorry y'all
> 
> Edit 2- Hello! For anyone still watching this, there will be an epilogue up today or tomorrow. Thank y'all for the good vibes, comments, and kudos, and I hope y'all enjoyed the story.


End file.
